


Forfeit

by DamsonDaForge



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Bets, Boys Will Be Boys, Challenges, Competition, Crack, Forfeits, Fun, Gen, Jokes, Light-Hearted, Pranks, dares, loser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:02:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26441656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DamsonDaForge/pseuds/DamsonDaForge
Summary: Will and Geordi have embarked on a possibly ill-advised sporting challenge.
Relationships: Deanna Troi & Will Riker, Geordi La Forge & Will Riker
Comments: 11
Kudos: 23





	Forfeit

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Deanna asked.

Will was nursing a synthahol whisky and a bruised ego at their table in Ten Forward.

“I want to beat him. Once. I want to beat him.”

“Geordi is small and fast and his VISOR is giving him vastly superior visual information. Squash just isn’t your game.”

Will grunted at her, disgusted at the thought.

“I even took a few lessons with Data,” said Will. “I thought maybe he could sharpen me up enough to take Geordi down. You know what he told me?”

Deanna could feel that Will had been hurt by what Data had said. Data had the sweetest nature but wanting the android’s opinion was frankly asking for trouble.

“You didn’t ask him for an honest assessment, did you? Oh, Will!”

“I asked him what he thought my chances were.”

“What did he say?” Deanna asked, wincing.

“He said, and I quote, ‘Your lumbering gait precludes the swift movement around the court necessary to beat Commander La Forge.’ Lumbering.” Will grimaced. “He called me lumbering.”

Deanna had to put her hand over her mouth to hide the huge grin that was in danger of breaking cover. Will’s pride was truly dented, by his repeated losses to Geordi and now by Data’s brutal assessment.

“If this is bothering you so much, why don’t you stop playing?”

Will’s grimace deepened. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t? Of course you can.”

“No, Deanna. I really, really can’t.”

Troi was starting to get a feel of what was under all of this. She shook her head. Human males were amongst the most idiotically competitive species in the quadrant.

“What?” she demanded. “What have you agreed to?”

“There are forfeits,” he said, dragging a hand down his face. “We’re playing once a week for ten weeks. If I beat Geordi once, he has to do a forfeit. If he beats me ten straight times, I have to do the forfeit. If either one of us pulls out and it’s not a legitimate injury, it’s a forfeit.”

“You’re not ten years old! If you don’t want to do it, just tell him.”

“You don’t understand, Deanna. I can’t. That would be a forfeit by default. I’d still lose.”

For all of her insight and empathic ability, some things were still largely unfathomable to her and this was most definitely one of them. 

Three weeks later, Deanna was waiting outside Holodeck Two. The last match in the series was being played behind those large double doors and Deanna could tell that it wasn’t going well for Will.

When the doors finally opened, Geordi bounced out.

“Hey, Counselor,” he greeted her. He was a little breathless but his victory in the game and now the series meant he was walking on air.

“Geordi, congratulations.”

Will trudged out of the Holodeck behind him. Sweat had plastered his hair and his shirt to his body and his face was flushed pink above his beard. Deanna handed him a towel and he wiped himself down.

“So, what’s the damage,” Will asked Geordi. “What do I have to do?”

“I haven’t quite decided yet,” said the engineer, a wicked little smile spreading over his face. “When I do, you’ll be the first to know, Commander.”

And with a nod of his head to Deanna, Geordi wandered off, a definite swagger in his stride.

Will half-collapsed against the wall.

“Did you see him?” he almost moaned. “If he’d had a moustache he would have twirled it. He’s planning something evil.”

“So were you,” said Deanna. She’d picked up a few things from him as he’d mused about what forfeit he’d make Geordi perform, should he have managed to win one match.

A few days passed and it had become clear to Deanna that Geordi had told Will what the forfeit was going to be. She’d felt Will’s stomach drop through the floor and a rapid blast of denial followed by fear followed by shame followed by resignation piled into her head.

 _Honestly, Will_ she said to him in her mind. _It can’t be **that** bad, can it?_

They weren't together at the time and she knew he wouldn’t get the words from that distance, but she hoped he would feel her trying to pull him up so that he’d feel a bit of perspective.

It didn’t work. In the afternoon, they were on the bridge. As usual, Captain Picard sat between them. Will, at his right hand, was still deeply rattled and distracted and just about as nervous and edgy and afraid as she’d ever known him. All over a silly bet.

Deanna looked over her left shoulder. A moment later the turbolift opened and Geordi stepped out. He had zero reasons to be on the bridge at this point in their shift. Deanna arched an eyebrow at him. His smirk and the almost electric buzz he was giving off convinced Deanna that whatever he had compelled Will to do was going to go down very soon. The mix of Geordi’s victorious excitement and Will’s stomach churning dread were a heady combination and Deanna was starting to feel a little dizzy.

Geordi activated the Engineering station, but then came to stand forward, just to Worf’s left. She felt the Klingon’s confusion at his presence.

“Hey, Worf,” Geordi said, like it was entirely normal for him to lurk on the bridge for no apparent reason.

“Commander,” Worf acknowledged, the look on his face speaking volumes.

Will suddenly cleared his throat and stood up. He moved in front of Captain Picard’s chair, faced him and then knelt on one knee and put his hand over his heart.

“What _are_ you doing?” asked an utterly baffled Picard.

Will took a deep breath and, throwing caution, dignity and pride into the wind, he let fly with his rich, deep baritone.

 _“Fly me to the moon_ ,” he sang to Picard

“ _And let me play amongst the stars_

_Let me know what life is like on Jupiter and Mars.”_

Geordi disintegrated into hysterics, his almost silent laughter an ‘ack-ack-ack’ sound that punctuated the pauses in Will’s rendition. The rest of the bridge was plunged into silent, disbelieving shock. Data at Ops and Zhang at Conn had spun round in their chairs and were both gawping at Commander Riker. It had even rendered Captain Picard speechless. He appeared pinned back in his chair, his hands clutching at the armrests, completely bewildered.

Will finished belting out the verse, got up off his knee and sat back down as if nothing had happened.

Captain Picard turned very slowly towards him.

“Would you care to offer an explanation, Commander?”

“I… er… just felt the urge, sir,” said Will and Deanna felt him die a little more inside.

“May I suggest,” said Picard, “that should the ‘urge’ come over you again, you _un_ feel it?”

“Yes, sir!” Will was sitting bolt-upright, eyes fixed forward, and he was burning with humiliation. Deanna was having a hard time keeping her face straight. She had known something had been coming, but this had been spectacular.

Having put Will back in his box, Captain Picard turned to his left and looked up to where Geordi was hanging off the Tactical handrail, still in fits of hysterics.

“Commander La Forge, I strongly suspect your reasons for being on the bridge are not entirely professional ones. Engineering,” ordered Picard. “Now.”

Geordi staggered to the turbolift after wordlessly acknowledging his Captain’s order.

Picard pulled down his tunic. “Perhaps now we can return to some measure of normality?”

*~*~*~*

It was just the four of them for poker night. Deanna and Beverly were both out, so it was just Will and Geordi left in.

Will knew Geordi had a decent hand, Deanna let herself feel it now she was out of the round. The problem was, Geordi was almost out of chips and Will had amassed a tidy pile.

“You can always fold,” Will goaded. “Or…”

Geordi looked up. “Or what?”

“Or you could put something interesting on the table.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you think you’ve got me beat. And if you have, you’ve got nothing to lose.”

“All in?” Geordi clarified.

“All in, but if you lose I get to choose your forfeit.”

“What do you lose?”

“My chips and the game.”

“Hardly seems fair.”

“Depends… on how good you think that hand is.”

There was silence around the table as Geordi pondered his options. Then he laid his cards face down and pushed his small number of chips into the centre of the table.

“All in,” he said.

“All in,” Riker agreed, pushing his towers of chips into the pile.

Geordi turned his cards over. He had a straight flush. Beverly whistled.

Will flipped over his hand and Deanna felt Geordi’s delight shatter into defeat. Will had a _Royal_ flush. He’d just nailed Geordi’s hide to the wall. Deanna felt their competing and contrasting emotions surging within her.

“Before this week is out,” Will proclaimed, “and in my presence, you have to tickle a Klingon.”

“What?” said Geordi.

Beverly yelped with laughter.

Watching Geordi squirm was like drinking sweet, sweet nectar to Will, Deanna observed. He sat back in his chair, savouring his revenge. 

“You heard me, La Forge. You. Tickle. A Klingon.”


End file.
